


A Royal Wedding

by anovelblogwrites



Category: The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Alternate Ending, non-canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-07
Updated: 2017-07-07
Packaged: 2018-11-28 20:20:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11425443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anovelblogwrites/pseuds/anovelblogwrites
Summary: In which Alina marries Nikolai.a.k.a -- a product of my denial about the ending of Ruin and Rising.





	A Royal Wedding

“Saints, Alina!” Genya griped. “You could at least _try_ to look happy.” 

The sun summoner glowered at her friend’s reflection and bit back, “I could, if only you’d stop trying to pull my hair out of my head.” 

She earned a withering look from Genya, “I am not sending the queen of Ravka out with sloppy hair on her wedding day! I’d never live it down.”

“You’ll have a lot more than your reputation to worry about if you make me go bald,” Alina huffed, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair. She winced as Genya dug another pin into her scalp. 

After what had seemed like hours, her hair was piled elegantly on top of her head, the perfect perch for the crown that would be placed on her head during the ceremony. When Genya received Alina before sunrise, she couldn’t fathom why getting dressed would take so long. Now, she was starting to worry she’d be late to her own wedding. Genya had paid an excruciating amount of detail to her skin, smoothing over each pore and adding the perfect amount of pink to her cheeks. One by one, the tailor lengthened Alina’s eyelashes. 

As she stared at the finished product whilst being laced into her white and gold dress--a heavy and unforgiving thing--Alina couldn’t deny that Genya’s efforts had paid off. The woman staring back at her was not the woman that was exhausted from tossing and turning all night, or about to explode from anxiety. She was picure of a blushing bride. 

Genya appeared next to her, beaming proudly. At first, Alina thought she was just admiring her handiwork, but then she said, “You’re going to be the ruler of Ravka.” 

“Nikolai is going to do most of the ruling,” Alina mused. He’s much more qualified, after all. 

One of Genya’s eyebrows darted up. “Don’t let him hear you say that.” 

“I’m sure I’ll have a few things…” Like overseeing the Little Palace. “But, he needs my name more than he needs me.” 

Genya rolled her eyes but didn’t argue. 

Alina wished that her first act as Tsaritsa could be to expel all existing members of the Royal Court. Nikolai, although tempted by the idea, had turned her down. _“It’s not very diplomatic to fire anyone who’s mean to you,”_ he’d told her. And she might have agreed with him, had the members of the Court simply been mean. They were not mean. Those men were old, bitter, and blindly loyal to Nikolai’s father. They were belligerent in their plots against Nikolai. 

There had been a movement to keep him off the throne, and call for the reinstatement of Alexander III. Disgust twisted their faces when they contended that Nikolai wasn’t a real Lantsov, and therefore had no right to the crown. 

Desperately, Nikolai turned to Alina. If they would not let Nikolai carry on the Lantsov legacy, perhaps it was time a new one began. The Apparat said that the people wanted their beacon of hope, their Sol Koroleva, to lead them. She had no desire to be queen. What she had wanted was a quiet life with Mal. 

_Mal._

Her heart gave an involuntary squeeze. Her hand found it’s way to her wrist and her fingers began to worry around the smooth surface of Mal’s rib. She couldn’t explain it, but she could feel him there, still. Even in death, Mal was protecting her. But she didn’t dare look at the bone; sometimes looking at it made her want to saw her hand off entirely. 

Alina didn’t have Mal anymore, but she did have a duty to her country.   
… 

Alina stood behind the grand doors. She had a vice-like grip on the golden candelabra. The intricately carved design was sure to emboss on her palms. If she stood here any longer, the candle in front of her would burn away to nothing. If she stared at the doors any longer, she might never walk through them. She took a steadying breath, then nodded to the courtiers. They each grabbed a handle, and the doors swung open. 

She had seen this part of the palace before, even observed of the Apparat’s services, but the sight of it had never taken her breath away as it did now. The first thing she noticed, aside from the mass of people, were the lights. It was not to be disregarded that the king of Ravka was marrying the sun summoner. Candles flickered in sconces on the wall, and from the massive chandelier above. The flames reflected in the stained glass windows, bringing the images to life. The light glittered against the stately gold vases that overflowed with pristinely white roses. 

And then there was Nikolai, looking as dashing as ever. The thought of Nikolai’s reaction if he found out she’d called him that popped into her head, and made her want to roll her eyes. But he truly was, standing with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing official military dress. The light blue jacket was pressed so finely, the creases looked like blades. The medals pinned to his chest shone in the candle light. Not a single golden hair was out of place, and he was smiling at her. An eye crinkling, unbridled smile. 

The corners of her mouth turned up in response. Her cheeks warmed, and she wondered if Genya’s fabricated blush--perfectly rosy, and contained to the apples of her cheeks--would hide this one. 

She started her journey down the aisle, trying her best to maintain the pace she’d perfected. She heard Genya’s voice chiding her, _“Brides don’t stomp, they float.”_

Alina counted each gliding footfall until she reached Nikolai. He unclasped his hands, and presented his own candleholder. His was far less extravagant, and the candle was unlit. With a steady hand, she brought her candle to his. The wick caught almost immediately, but she lingered, just to be sure, before taking a step back. 

“Welcome, all.” The Apparat greeted, and even the rustling of skirts and tapping of shoes ceased. It was so quiet, Alina could hear her heart thundering in her chest.

“We stand here today, having emerged from a time of great peril and uncertainty, and we look forward to a new generation of hope and light.” The Apparat paused, casting a meaningful glance at Alina. She bristled slightly at the subtle _Sankta_ propaganda. Of course, she had expected as much when it was revealed that the priest would perform the wedding ceremony. She was actually prepared for worse. “A future generation conceived in love, wisdom, and a reverence for life, the earth and each other.” 

The Apparat took the candles from Alina and Nikolai, and placed them on the altar behind him. When turned back around, he was holding a small velvet cushion the same hue as the roses. Two rings nested in the center. 

“Let us bless these rings. Made from metals deep within this earth, may these rings be a symbol of a love equally deep. Forged in heat and with great effort, may they inspire a strong and preserving bond. Bright like the sun--” Another calculated pause. “May your love illuminate your lives.” 

The Apparat presented her the with the rings. 

She knew her line by heart. Not only because it was just six little words, but because she’d said it so many times. In the mirror in the morning, before she fell asleep. But it felt different then, they really were just six little words. Now, they were about to change everything. 

She took Nikolai’s hand in hers, carefully removing his white glove. She kept her hands cupped around his, in what would appear to be a loving gesture. In the strong, yet tender voice she’d spoken in so many times, she “With this ring, I thee wed.” 

She watched Nikolai pluck the gold ring off the cushion, listened to the softness in his voice when he repeated those same words. Even though the simple gold band was Grisha crafted, and practically indestructible, Nikolai slipped the ring onto Alina’s finger with utmost care. The metal was so thin, the ring was able to slide under the large emerald already adorning her finger and fit snugly against its band. Nikolai kept a gentle grip on her fingers to guide her hand closer to him. Leaning down slightly, as if he were bowing to her, Nikolai pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Alina saw a young girl clutching her hands over her heart. Not quite as moved, Alina rolled her eyes. But she was smiling as she mouthed, _So dramatic._

Nikolai squeezed her hand and winked. 

“You may now step forward together,” the Apparat gestured to the plain white rug in front of them. Nikolai still held onto Alina’s hand as they stepped onto it. In tandem, they knelt side by side. 

She bowed her head and awaited the weight of the crown. It was not the one she wore at court. The heavy thing now digging into her scalp was purely ceremonial and centuries old. It had been adorned by generations of tsaritsas before her, in the moment they became the queen to the king, and for her people. She didn’t dare turn her head to watch as the Apparat placed an identical crown on Nikolai’s head. 

“Witnessed by those here today, and in the spirit of the saints, Nikolai Lantsov, is crowned unto Alina Starkov. May they be crowned with glory and honor.” 

When they turned around, it was done slowly and carefully, with fingers securely laced together Everyone rose from their seats. Like a slow-moving tide, rows of people bowed. The Apparat’s voice was so loud and clear, it seemed to reverberate off of the high beams. “Ladies and gentlemen, people of Ravka. I present to you Tsar and Tsaritsa Nikolai and Alina Starkov, first of their name.” 

Alina and Nikolai followed the herd outside, where an open carriage drawn by four white horses waited. Flowers rained down on them as Nikolai helped Alina into the carriage and climbed in after her. 

As they rode through Os Alta, Alina was glad for Nikolai, because while her gown was exquisite, it did little to protect her against the evening chill. Ravka was never truly warm, especially not as the sun was setting. But the cold did not discourage the people. The braved it gladly, huddled together, both for warmth and to accommodate the mass of them. Their cheers were accompanied by clouds. It continued for miles. People careening for a look at their Tsar and Tsaritsa. 

They cheered and blew kisses with a fervor more intense than Alina had experienced before. But it did not make her nervous as it used to. The hope in their eyes was contagious, and Alina was starting to believe that she might be deserving of it. This was the Ravka she loved, the country she fought for. This was the country she would continue to fight for. 

The sun had just disappeared behind the hills, turning Grand Palace into a beacon of light. Every window was illuminated, lively music filled the air. 

People must have been eagerly watching the doors for the arrival of their king and queen, because when the courtiers opened them, the Herald did not have the chance to do his job. A nearly deafening cheer erupted. Leading the pack, were Genya and a mildly uncomfortable looking David, Zoya, Tolya and Tamar, with her arm slung around Nadia’s shoulders. When they noticed they’d caught Alina’s eye, they waved frantically. 

The happiness Alina felt in that moment hurt. Her smile hurt her cheeks. Her heart felt like it was too big for her chest. 

The sea of guests parted for a courtier holding a golden tray, with two small crystal glasses in the middle of it. Each filled partway with amber liquid. Kvas, she realized. Alina stared dumbly at the tray being presented to her. She was not expecting this. Using the sweetness of a kiss to take away the bitterness of the kvas was a little tradition held by the common folk of Ravka, not royalty. But the crowd was enthusiastically chanting: _“Gorko, gorko, gorko!”_ and clapping along. 

Nikolai, ever a man of the people, reached for his drink first. When Alina followed suit, he clinked the rim of his glass against hers. The moment the kvas reached her tongue, Alina was cringing. She could never seem to get used to the way it somehow made her mouth feel numb, and burn her throat all at the same time. 

_“Gorko, gorko, gorko!”_

A hand slid around her waist, the other tilted her chin. Without asking them to, Alina’s lips parted. Nikolai’s eyes were dancing and he was smiling as he leaned in. 

“Please don’t kick me for this.”


End file.
